


A quiet morning

by Archangel06



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Comfort and care, I dig space husbands a lot, M/M, Plot What Plot, Smut, Virgin Din Djarin, din and migs can really be adorable together, handjob, it's smut seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel06/pseuds/Archangel06
Summary: It was still hard to believe that he and Mando- Din, not Mando- were married, even after a month. It had been rushed and probably should never have happened, but the only other choice was death for having seen Din’s face. And… to be honest, he didn’t regret marrying Din.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Migs Mayfeld
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	A quiet morning

Slowly, Migs floated into consciousness. His arm was cramping under the pillow, and there was a large, wet spot under his mouth- shit, he had again fallen asleep with his mouth open and drooled on the pillow. In addition, he felt an extremely unpleasant texture in his mouth: hair. To be precise, Din’s hair. At some point during the night, he had spooned his husband, wrapped an arm and a leg around his torso and waist and buried his face in his curls. A good portion of if apparently had ended up in his mouth.

He shifted, blinking and working his mouth to get rid of the soft locks of hair, and as he moved, he felt Din stirring and shifting too, so he gently squeezed him and kissed him on the back of his head: the Mandalorian warrior (his kriffing _husband_!!!) relaxed with a sigh, and drifted off to sleep again.

It was peaceful, like this, and Migs wished that he could capture this moment forever, of the two of them tangled together in a warm cocoon of blankets and flesh, with the light of dawn filtering from the shutters.

It was still hard to believe that he and Mando- Din, not Mando- were married, even after a month. It had been rushed and probably should never have happened, but the only other choice was death for having seen Din’s face. And… to be honest, he didn’t regret marrying Din. What he regretted was chickening out on Morak and basically forcing him to show his face in order to get the information needed to find his child. It shouldn’t have been him, to see Din’s face for the first time- it should have been… someone else. Someone who wasn’t a lowlife twofaced criminal, someone who had Din’s respect and love from the very beginning. Someone whom Din had willingly chosen, another Mando, maybe. But not him.

He wanted to make it up to Din for forcing him to make that choice, to show him that despite his past mistakes he could and would be a better man, deserving of the honour he had been given (also, the rabid ex rebel shock trooper that answered to the name of Cara Dune was a devoted friend of Din, and Migs did most certainly _not_ want to give her any excuses to vent her penchant for big, heavy blaster gatlings on him).

Blind trust wasn’t _quite_ there yet- but that was fine. Love (romantic love, at least) wasn’t there either. He would earn that, too. Meanwhile, they had built a solid foundation of respect for each other, and there definitely was a budding affection. Baby steps.

So far, they had started sleeping together (both in the literal and figurative sense of the word), and Din had seemed to be getting used to it quite easily: after the first few embarrassing mornings where they had woken up with the Mandalorian being spooned by Migs, it had become part of their daily life.

Sex had taken about two weeks to come to them, and Migs had been shocked to discover that Din was a virgin. Never been touched in twenty-two years, by anyone. Only himself. The only experience he had, was a quick handjob here and there during moments of boredom on the Razor Crest, and that was it: he had only the vaguest idea about what he liked or disliked, or even about what his boundaries around sex were. Not to mention that after 22 years of absolute chastity he was so sensitive, that everything had the potential to overwhelm him. The new sensations often took him by storm and he wasn’t always able to tell that his orgasm was building way too fast- the first time they had tried anything, he had come in his pants simply because Migs had kissed his neck a few times and squeezed his ass. Everything was new and scary, but they were both learning and it was ok.

Migs didn’t mind too much. It felt simply like one more part of the process needed to gain Din’s full trust, and if he had to wait a bit before he was able to simply jump his husband and fuck him into next week, making him ride the edge to the point of madness before finally, finally allowing him to come… well, so be it. Again, baby steps.

And… if he had to be completely sincere, it was kriffin’ _arousing._ He was the only one who knew the shape of the back of his head, and that he had a tiny mole behind his left ear, and that gently scratching his scalp made him melt to the point of falling asleep. He knew the taste of his sweat, the shape of his navel, the smell of his arousal and the taste of his clean skin, and nobody else could know.

 _He’s all mine,_ he thought. _All mine. All the thousand little secrets of his body, all mine._ He was greedy, he wanted Din all for himself even though he didn’t deserve him, and was fucking happy that Din was his. If this was a sin, then he was the worst sinner, and he was perfectly happy with it.

Din seemed to cautiously trust him in this, and kept coming back for a little bit more, graduating to mutual, (and very satisfying) handjobs in three weeks or so. It had worked so far- with only a couple of incidents where Din had been so overwhelmed that he had actually _cried_. That had been a setback, but they had overcome that, as well.

Migs had felt beyond shitty for having not been able to realise that he had exaggerated, and this had pushed him to establish a new rule: Din would always have to express out loud when he wanted to stop, no matter the reason.

His patience was rewarded: now Din didn’t startle anymore when he came into his personal bubble, and had started himself to go into Migs’; handholding had become more common, as well as Keldabe kisses.

After an indefinite amount of time, he felt Din stirring and shifting in his arms- he was definitely waking up this time. He decided to make his shift into consciousness a bit more pleasant by raising a hand to his hair and gently petting those soft curls.

“Mhh…” mumbled Din, nestling deeper into his arms. Migs felt unreasonably proud of this, and decided to add a few kisses. A mere two months earlier, Din would have gone without sleep rather than do it in the vicinity of Migs, and if he really had to, he would have done so with an eye open and a hand on the blaster. He would have sprung up like a startled lothcat and shot Migs dead before even being completely awake at the lightest touch: but now there was a big yawn, some mouth working, eye rubbing and a huge stretch before Din settled again in his arms.

“This is a nice way to wake up” he whispered.

“Indeed” replied Migs, with his nose pressed into Din’s hair, while he gently carded that messy bedhead with his hand. He smelled wonderful, of musk and sweat and just the indescribable smell of _Din_. It occurred to him that maybe he actually _was_ falling in love with his husband, if just the smell of him gave him this much joy.

“Just a warning… I’m getting used to this and I’m not sure that I want to do without anymore.”

“Good, because I don’t plan to ever stop doing it.”

They stayed in silence for a while, and it was a comfortable, lazy silence that didn’t require to be filled with inanities. Migs kept gently petting his husband’s hair, enjoying the feeling of him in his arms, sleepy and boneless like a big cat. Then Din spoke.

“Can… can I… touch you?”

Ah, so he had noticed the half erection pressing against him. It was also the first time that he had volunteered any action unprompted.

“Of course you can. As a matter of fact, I’d be very grateful if you did.”

Din turned, and now they were facing each other. It was hard to see him well in the dim light, but it didn’t matter- not when Din pressed himself against him, kissing him gently and caressing his cheek. He seemed to enjoy the scratchy feeling of Migs’ beard under his fingers, and repeated the movement a few more times before his hand started to move downward. He didn’t seem to be in a rush, and despite the fact that Migs’ interest had been definitely piqued by that show of initiative, he didn’t press him, preferring to touch their foreheads together: Din’s eyes were wide open, dark with lust, and he was worrying his lip. Soon enough Din was teasing his fingers under his husband’s pants, and then grabbing his hardening cock. Migs exhaled, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back: Din’s grip was a bit uncertain, but he rapidly tightened it as Migs noises made it clear that he was enjoying it.

“Will… will you touch me?” he asked, between kisses.

“Mhmh.” Migs gently put a hand on Din’s tight, drawing circles on the warm skin with his thumb, and pulled it over his own hips. “C’mere, you…” he rolled, pulling Din on top of himself, and thoroughly enjoying the sight of his husband’s eyes widening and the sound of his breath getting fast. Almost involuntarily, Din started to rut against him as Migs’ hands started to roam on his back, under the shirt, still with Din’s hand trapped between them. He was emitting some truly interesting “a-ah” noises, but the sharpshooter decided that today he felt particularly greedy: he teased his hands under Din’s pants, and then grabbed those delicious buttocks and firmly pressed Din against himself, grinding their hips together. He was rewarded with a delightful startled moan that he had never heard before.

“This good for you?” he whispered, pressing a few kisses on his husband’s cheek, who nodded.

“Y- yes. It’s n- nice- ah!”

Migs almost felt sad that someday Din wouldn’t be so sensitive that some simple rubbing would make him stutter.

“I would like to try something” murmured Migs, easing the pressure and contenting himself with gently massaging his husband’s butt, as Din kissed his neck.

“Mmh. Better than this?”

“Way better than this.”

“Will you stop if I ask you?”

“Always. I will only do whatever you are comfortable with and nothing more.”

“Ok then. What is it?”

“You’ll see.” Migs rolled over, bringing Din underneath him and eliciting a startled yelp: for a moment, Din went rigid, his body automatically shifting in the best position to overthrow an opponent on top of him. “Uh… sorry” said Migs. “Shouldn’t… shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t worry” whispered Din, forcing himself to relax. “I guess I just have to get used to this. Just… go on, ok?”

“As you wish.” Migs didn’t waste any time in kissing his husband: this time he took his time to gently bite and lick Din’s lips before going down to extend the same treatment to Din’s neck, then his collarbone, and then further down to his nipples. That earned him another very interesting new set of noises that Migs carefully filed away in his mind- he definitely wanted to hear them again. He licked, suckled and teased the two little hard nubs- they were a dark brownish pink, and felt like tiny pebbles between his lips as they stiffened. He grazed them with his teeth- gently, this wasn’t the time for kinky stuff- and then swirled the tongue around the areola. 

Din drew a sobbing breath. During the past month he had grown more and more apt at reading his husband’s body language, and Migs knew what he was going to ask.

“S- stop” he hissed, and Migs immediately obliged.

“Too much?”

“Y- yeah. It’s just… too intense. Sorry…”

“Hey, no worries. I want you to enjoy yourself” murmured Migs, depositing a gentle kiss in the centre of Din’s heaving chest. “Do you need to take a breath?”

“No… just don’t touch there anymore for now, ok?”

“Sure. So… where was I? Ah, yes…” he started licking and gently biting and suckling on his skin, avoiding his nipples entirely, rubbing small circles with his thumbs on Din’s jutting hipbones. He felt Din relax under his ministrations- well, maybe not _relax_ exactly, but it was clear enough that he was enjoying it and wasn’t overstimulated or overwhelmed. Slowly but surely, Migs’s mouth descended towards the elastic of Din’s pants.

“Migs…” he moaned, bucking his hips and looking for some friction.

“Shh. I’ve got you.” Finally, Migs lowered his husband’s pants, and his hard cock bobbed free: Din propped himself on his elbows and watched, to better see what his husband had in mind.

Migs nuzzled the thick, coarse bush of dark pubic hair, inhaling deeply the strong, musky smell of him as he took Din’s cock and moved his hand up and down a few times. It was heavy, hot and full, the skin so silky and smooth under his callused hand: after a few strokes, he pulled the foreskin back and, staring Din straight in the eyes, proceeded to lick the length of it before engulfing it in his mouth, wrapping his right hand around the base and stroking where he couldn’t reach, and stroking his husband’s tight with his other hand.

“ _Kriff!!!_ ” moaned Din, and fell back on the mattress, hips bucking blindly into that searing, wet heat. Migs let him set the pace: this wasn’t the time for kinks or anything that wasn’t Din exploring the sensation at his own pace. Migs took more of him, starting to suck in earnest and loving every single sound that Din made, tasting the slight salt of precum on his tongue. He let him go and proceeded to lick him his whole length again, from the tip to his balls, taking them one at a time in his mouth and sucking on them gently. He hummed around his husband’s flesh, and briefly wondered if it was the case to descend even further to his taint… no, better not. This was already a lot.

Din’s voice was an uninterrupted litany of _kriff, Migs, please,_ and _don’t stop,_ mixed with loud moans and groans that somehow sounded both innocent and absolutely filthy at the same time. From behind his lashes, Migs admired the sight of his husband coming undone, trashing and arching back, his fists balled tightly in the sheets, his hips bucking and desperate for just a little bit more… and he was the only one who had the privilege to see it. His cock gave a twitch, reminding him that he was due some relief as well- he palmed himself, but he was too focused on Din to be able to do much. By now he knew Din’s body language enough to know that he was about to come: the jerking of his hips was erratic, as it was his breath, and he felt his balls tightening under his touch, while his cock leaked more, and became even harder. Migs took him even deeper in his mouth: he wanted his husband to experience this.

“Migs… Migs I’m- I’m- AH!”

Din came with a shout in his husband’s mouth: Migs sucked him through it all, with spit and hot cum drooling everywhere. It was a mess, and it only aroused him more- Din was arching back and pulsing hard in his mouth, spilling the hard evidence of his pleasure and it was all Migs’ merit, and stars he wanted to do this all over again.

“Kriff” groaned Din, as the orgasm ebbed away, eyes closed in pure bliss.

Migs sniggered, using a corner of the blanket to clean his mouth. “I take it that you liked it?”

“I think that if I liked it any more, I would have died” murmured Din, dazed.

Again, Migs sniggered. “Well, now that’s a compliment!”

“A well- deserved one. Come here.” Migs obliged, straddling him, and Din put a hand on the back of his head, and the other one around his cock, starting to pump him, making him sigh in relief after having neglected himself for so long. “Look at me, when you come” Din whispered. “I want to see you, and see your pleasure and know that I gave it to you…”

“Din…” moaned Migs, as deft fingers fondled his balls and then descended even further, teasing and rubbing gently his hole. He hissed. “Kriff, you are enterprising today” he moaned.

“What can I say, I have a sexy husband who has corrupted me” smiled Din, gently squeezing his balls. 

“Oh, corrupted you, did I? As if you weren’t willing- shit!”

Fingers closed again around his shaft- he was leaking now, and was starting to feel desperate for release. He bucked his hips, wanting more- and Din immediately complied, tightening his grip and rubbing his tip with the pad of his thumb.

Migs doggedly chased the edge, gritting his teeth and focusing completely on the sensation of that fist tightly balled around his cock- his balls were tightening, and he could feel the orgasm coiled in his lower belly like a spring, the heat rising and rising-

“Din… Din” he panted “Close… I’m close…”

“Cum for me” whispered Din, twisting his wrist as he knew his husband liked, and pushed their foreheads together. “Look at me, Migs. Let me see your pleasure.”

“Fuck” groaned Migs, reaching his peak. “Fuck… Din, Din!” he called, as he finally orgasmed: his mind went completely blank, it fell like falling from a great height and yet soaring at the same time. He pushed his hips into Din’s hand, his body rigid as he came, adding to the mess on his husband’s belly.

He flopped on top of his husband, panting heavily, his body twitching as the orgasm ebbed.

They stayed like that for a while: Din passed his arms around Migs torso, hugging him and cradling him gently, as Migs hid his face in his husband’s neck.

There was no rush: the bounty they had just brought in would allow them a couple of weeks of respite. In the past month and a half this had been their life- bring bounty in, rest a bit, explore each other and build their relationship… it wasn’t a bad life. As a matter of fact, Migs felt perfectly contented, and was of a mind of falling asleep again: his eyes were closing already-

And then his stomach gave an embarrassing growl.

Din looked at him, mildly surprised, before bursting into laughter. Migs couldn’t help but joining him.

“Eggs?” Din proposed, still laughing.

“With double bacon or I’ll eat you” threatened Migs, playfully biting on his husband’s nose.

“You did that already, you glutton” rebutted Din, still smiling. 

Not long after, they were sitting in the tiny kitchen, eating slowly in companionable silence. Migs sighed in contentment- it was… simple. Domestic. Quiet. For a very long time he hadn’t had the time to think about the long-term future- how could there be a long- term future in the Imperial army, or in a prison where you were supposed to spend fifty years? He had thought that he would die in there. But now… now he was married and there _was_ a future.

“Din…” he started. He stopped immediately, unsure of how to go on, and what to say.

“Yes?”

“Do you…” Migs put down his fork, still thinking. “Do you… regret it? Marrying me, I mean.”

Din didn’t answer immediately. He put down his cutlery too, and laid his hands on the table, staring at the empty dish. He took a long time to answer.

“I… no” he said, finally. “I was angry at first” he admitted. “Among Mandalorians, the bond of _tome_ is… sacred. You are supposed to go into it with the appropriate amount of respect, and you need to be very aware of just how big of a commitment it is. And I didn’t do that. I forced you into it and you couldn’t have any idea of what _tome_ is. I forced myself into it. It was wrong of me. I was angry with you and with myself. But then… you surprised me.”

“I will not lie and say that I love you now. But… you keep showing me that I can trust you, now. That you have changed. You have had my back many times now, and… I trust you. I think that with time, I will learn to love the man you have become. So no, I don’t regret it.” He cocked his head to the side, frowning. “Maybe… maybe I _do_ love you, actually. It’s… I thought that it was supposed to be more... epic? More… dramatic? We married and you didn’t even know my name. I thought that it would be with the proper courting, and that I would feel all sorts of feelings. But now you are part of my life, and I don’t want to let you go.”

Migs felt a warm sensation spread in his chest, and smiled. “Well, we blew up an imperial refinery as a wedding ceremony. It doesn’t get much more dramatic than that, doesn’t it?” he teased. Din burst into laughter- he did it much more often, lately.

“Indeed” he agreed, before sobering up a bit. “What about you, though? You are the… well, maybe victim is too strong of a word, but I did force you to marry me. Do you regret it?”

“No.” Migs answer was immediate. “No. I…” he sighed. “No. I can’t regret it. On Morak I messed up _bad_ , and I messed up bad on the prison ship and I messed up bad when I was an Imp. You gave me an opportunity to be better, to turn a new leaf.” He shrugged. “I think… I think I love you, too. I too, don’t want’ to let you go anymore. I have an honest life, and a sexy husband. What’s not to love?” he added, with a wink.

Din chuckled, and offered his hand to Migs, who took it, and entwined their fingers together.

It would be all right.

**Author's Note:**

> sooo... I felt guilty after writing "the truth of your soul", and I wanted to give Migs some nice things, because he's a lovely asshole and I want him to have nice things and I want Din to have nice things!! 
> 
> comments are always welcome of course ^_^


End file.
